


When It's Time To Wake Up

by Sonamae



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Amica Endurae, Multi, Polyamory, Sleepy robots, That's It that's the Show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 03:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8733094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonamae/pseuds/Sonamae
Summary: The lost Light is a bunch of cranky Cybertronians who just want to go back to bed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is horribly unedited. You've been warned.

Everyone else could frag themselves over a table in the most uncomfortable positions with spikes too small for satisfaction! This was far too early to have woken Rodimus up, and yet _here_ he was, _awake_. All he wanted to do was go back to recharge and nuzzle his face into Drift’s arm in their nest, or hell even nudge Perceptor or Ratchet for all the times they’d shared their berth, but _oh no_. He had to be a Co-Captain of a _fancy_ ship, it _had_ to be early and there _had_ to be a political ship flying near them that they _had_ to hail. 

Beside him, Drift stood tall and alert in his best imitation of a morning person, but Rodimus _knew_ better. Drift was hiding a bitterness that could scare any Decepticon fleet into submission, and had in the past. 

In the other Captain’s chair, Megatron was humming an obnoxiously cheerful tune and sipping at a cup of warmed energon. The slag head of a morning person. Being a Decepticon overlord Rodimus could forgive, but being chipper before _noon?_ Nope, Megatron was a monster.

Rodimus was pretty sure the chipper bit was an act though, because after several annoying songs Megatron always mellowed out into his moody, broody self and things were back to normal; as if he’d not been humming ‘My Favorite Things’ just three kliks ago.

Drift reached out, rubbing coyly at Rodimus’ spoiler to make his optics flutter shut.

“You’re scowling.” Drift whispered. “Is it that much of a burden to have me back at your side? To keep you awake?” he teased. Rodimus reached out and looped his fingers through Drift’s hands.

“You’re never a burden, Amica. I want warmed energon, where does he always find it? I can never find it.” he huffed and felt his vents wiggle. Drift chuckled and straightened up when Ultra Magnus walked into the command center. The SIC had a tray in one hand and a data pad in the other, and he seemed… agitated? Rodimus wasn’t sure, he could never tell if Magnus… Minimus, was a morning person, or if he just never slept and lived in an eternal state of _cranky._

Drift would say cranky, but he was cracking any joke he could to try and win favor. 

Ultra Magnus muttered something and gave Megatron a curt hello, moving right passed his cheerful humming to stand next to Rodimus. He looked down at his Captain and waited.

“… what?” Rodimus asked, blinking his optics several times. Magnus sighed and looked down at the tray and the two mugs that were set apart from the third. That was hint enough. “Oh you lovely mecha you, I could just kiss you. Maybe later.” Rodimus reached out and scooped up both cups, already handing one off to Drift.

Magnus just narrowed his optics. “I need you alert for this, not snippy or high strung.” He left it at that and went to sit at his assigned chair.

Out of the corner of his optic, Rodimus saw Megatron smirking before he looked away. 

Rude. He obviously didn’t have one of the loveliest mecha out there bringing him and his Amica warmed energon. He was obviously jealous.

“You’re scowling again,” Drift whispered, “drink up before your energon gets cold and your face sticks like that.” Rodimus tried not to smirk as he brought the mug to his lips. The drink went down warm and delightful. The liquid was just sweet enough to be palatable and full of his favorite additives that sent a charge right down his spine.

Magnus, such a flirt.

When he was halfway done with the mug he set it beside him in the little cup holder he’d installed and shook his head.

“Alright, bring it on.” He gave is own cheek a playful smack and Megatron snorted.

“Let’s hope your enthusiasm doesn’t get us shot at like last time.” He said, voice a low gravel on upturned soil. How could he be so chipper and sound so asleep, fragging slag head.

\--

Back in the Captain’s quarters, Ratchet was still asleep. Now normally that wouldn’t be surprising, but he was currently asleep standing up in front of the wash rack sink, denta brush still hovering halfway to his mouth and covered in foam. While it was true that he had plenty of work to do today, it was also obscenely early and not worth the effort to force his processor online. His internal alarms hadn’t even gone off yet, he could sleep a little longer.

Even if that meant sleeping standing up.

This wasn’t the first time, it wouldn’t be the last. Normally First Aid would catch him napping standing in front of a terminal and gently wake him with a soft voice and easy demeanor.

Anyone else just hip checked him.

But still, he was dreaming about floating in high grade when someone kissed his cheek and threw their weight against his back. The heavy force startled him awake, battle protocols awakened but unmoving as they purred back to sleep under the pressure of the familiar EM field.

Perceptor groaned as he tried to bury his face into Ratchet’s neck, sniffling sleepily. Ratchet tried not to laugh. Honestly it was always funny to see a freshly woken Perceptor, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself.

“Good morning.” He said, voice still booting online before he shoved the denta brush back into his mouth. Perceptor moaned something unintelligible, but Ratchet knew it meant ‘Good morning to you too my love.’ Poor Percy, out of all the bots Ratchet knew, he had the worst time trying to wake up.

Perceptor shifted his weight, leaning into Ratchet’s side and optics fluttering shut occasionally as he mumbled something. After a few kiks, he made a soft clicking noise with his glossa. Ratchet smiled and leaned over to spit in the sink, then filled up a cup with water and passed it to Perceptor.

“Swish and spit.” He instructed, and Perceptor made a churring noise before doing as he was told.

Earlier he’d tried to keep Drift from leaving the bed, whining excessively as his conjux kissed him and pulled away. Rodimus had reached over and shoved Ratchet awake, telling him of their summons. He’d had to climb on top of Perceptor and put a finger to his lips, hushing him before falling back to sleep to the sound of frustrated fans.

His conjux partners were insufferable when they first woke up, and as frustrating as it could be he still loved them. Perceptor forgot what words were and Drift glared at everything or faked a cheerfulness that hinted at mass murder.

He snapped back awake to the sound of Perceptor spitting once again into the sink, denta brush dangling between his lips. 

Right, it was time to wake up. Ratchet slapped his own cheek hard enough to force a jolt of charge to his processor.

“Come on sweet spark, do you want to go down to breakfast with me?” Ratchet asked as Perceptor whined and put his denta brush back in its cup. “No? Do you want to go to your lab and do your science thing?” Perceptor whined louder. “I know, but you can’t go back to the berth.”

“Why not?” The first words out of Perceptor’s mouth were long and drawn out.

“We need you awake in case our conjux’s Amica gets us shot at again.” He smiled when Perceptor picked up his eye glass and clicked it into place. “Don’t make that face, you and Highbrow are crucial to the-”

“Let Brainstorm do it.” Perceptor muttered, even as he walked toward the door. “He always wants to use his guns, let him use them.” He huffed and then rubbed at his cheek plates. “Why do delegates always have to pick our recharge cycles to fly by us? Why can’t they comm us first?”

“They did comm us first.” Ratchet couldn’t help his smile, even as he watched Perceptor pick the blanket up off the berth and hug it to his chest. “Do you want me to walk you to the lab?”

“No.” Perceptor muttered as he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders.

“Alright, I’m coming.” Ratchet put his denta brush away and caught up with Perceptor’s snail of a pace.

“You have to get to the med-bay.” Perceptor said around a sudden yawn. Ratchet only nodded before leaning over to kiss Perceptor’s cheek.

“And have you run into a wall? Not a chance, I can sleep at my desk if I really need to.” He smiled and watched Perceptor’s frown lessen.

“Velocity is going to knock you to the floor one of these days when she tries to wake you up.” Perceptor took in a deep inhale, his features tightening up and his posture one of years of practice. “Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this forever ago for someone. Just found it after a conversation about old works. Enjoy these cranky old farts.


End file.
